


White Flag

by roelliej



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Boys Kissing, Brotherly Love, Cock Tease, Coming Out, Community: slashorific, Dirty Talk, Drama, Epic Friendship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gen, Happy Ending, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Language, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, One Shot, Ratings: R, Rejection, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, The Golden Trio, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love, Underage Sex, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:26:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1972344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roelliej/pseuds/roelliej
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, there was a young wizard who was called Ronald Weasley. The first moment The Boy Who Lived laid his eyes upon him, he was done...</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Flag

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Slashorific at Livejournal/Dreamwidth.
> 
> Much thanks to D. for the beta-check! :D

Living in isolation is something one does never gets used to. Loneliness slowly consumes all that makes us happy, until only the shell remains. You walk. You talk. You are. Nothing more.

  
  
~*~

  
  
I was different. I knew it for quite some time, but when you have to live with the most narrow minded people (who I shall call  _family_  to prevent confusion) that have ever lived on the face of this planet, you’ll try the best you can to behave like someone who is perfectly normal to their standards. I was a part of their life, but I had to pretend that I wasn’t there. When years passed and they kept ignoring my presence, I realised that I wasn’t pretending anymore. I didn’t exist. I was a faceless boy with broken glasses, a dirty secret which had to be locked away in a crappy cupboard under the stairs. I was a prisoner in my own body.  
  
It wasn’t until a giant shook up my little world and turned everything upside down. I wasn’t different. At least not in the eyes of the boy who stepped into my compartment on the first of September. The boy was close to my age and he made me feel something unique; something that I’d never felt in my entire life. Apparently it had saved my life when my mother had used her own body to shield me from a Dark Wizard. He was so evil, that even after his apparent death, people were afraid to speak his name aloud. I didn’t understand. I was just a name. I was too young to understand. But that boy, who was called Ron Weasley, made me realise what had saved me that night.  
  
He was a wizard. I was a wizard. Both inexperienced, but still wizards.  
  
It clarified all the strange things that happened when I was scared or extremely pissed off, which was understandable when you had to endure the presence of the world’s biggest git. When Ron opened his mouth and started to speak, there wasn’t a sign of disdain or malice. He was the first peer who treated me like an equal, sharing his experiences with that beautiful thing called magic. He welcomed me into his world, which would soon become mine. He had a dry sense of humour, which made me laugh so hard that I risked to become an owner of a permanent Glasgow smile. He must have thought that I was mental, but he laughed just as loud as me, making his freckles and ginger hair shine like a beacon. That day the circle of hate which was festering in my heart, was broken. That day I realised that I was able to love someone. And I did love him. From every single freckle and every ginger hair on his head.

  
  
~*~

  
  
For a moment I started to doubt the friendship between Hermione, Ron and me. I was under the impression that defying three-headed dogs and gigantic chess pieces would strengthen our bond. The way Hermione and Ron had sacrificed themselves so I could have my confrontation with Quirrell, had affected me so much, that even today I’m still lost for words to express my gratitude. Because of that, their insensitivity felt like a blow below the belt. Here I was, locked up in my room and they didn’t even bother to write me. For a moment I thought it was nothing but a dream. A perfect, divine dream, brutally shattered by the nightmare which was called Private Drive. That Ron, Fred and George would come over, trying to rescue me, exceeded all my expectations. Who would ever think of a flying car as a lifesaving device? I wasn’t.  
  
I was warmly welcomed in a family where love and cosiness was dominant most of the time. Love for each other and love for the skinny, spectacled boy with his famous scar. I seriously had to get used to the fact that people actually listened to me and were sincerely interested in what I had to say. The Weasleys became like a surrogate family. They never treated me as a slave and none of them (not even Percy) became irritated with my presence. I was an equal and started to love them, just like the love I felt for Ron. He was and always will be the brother I never had.  
  
Near the end of the holidays, the friendship between Ron and me was tested in such a way that I needed several weeks to get my groove back. I slept in Ron's room and I'm still convinced that the overflow of the colour orange had permanently damaged my eyes. Although there wasn't much time for sleeping to be perfectly honest. We talked about things which most boys never got tired talking about : Quidditch and girls. Well, what could I say about girls? Yes, we had plenty of them at school and Hermione, our best friend, was female, but that's all I had to say about the subject. I think that I wasn't as far as Ron, who couldn't stop talking, and drooling, about Lavender Brown's rack and Angelina Johnson's miniskirt. Whatever...  
  
On the last evening before our return to Hogwarts, you could almost taste the end-of-the-holidays-atmosphere at the Weasley residence. I didn't understand though. Both Hogwarts and the Burrow had become places where I felt at home. As long as Ron was with me, I would be fine. When Ron and I were preparing ourselves for bed, he didn't say anything, but a curt “good night”. He wasn't really looking forward to the new school year, but he refused to tell me why. I rested my head on the soft pillow, thinking about our upcoming adventures; I must have fallen asleep shortly after.   
  
A strange noise interrupted a very happy dream and I sleepily stared at the alarm clock: three a.m. I heard the sound again and concentrated deeply to localise the source. I felt a blush creeping up my neck as I discovered where the sound came from. Ron moaned softly and although it was pitch-dark, I didn't need a Professor to figure out what was going on. He was apparently under the impression that I was sleeping heavily, because he didn't hold back. My cheeks were the same colour as my sheets...and blood was rushing towards my cock. I almost died of shame, because it definitely wasn't natural listening to your best friend obviously pleasuring himself. Besides I wasn't gay...was I? My doubts were vaporised as my horniness overpowered my common sense.  
  
My hand slipped into my shorts and I tried the best I could to suppress a groan when my fingers grabbed my rigid shaft. I started to stroke the foreskin, giving perfect friction on the head, which was already soaked with pre-come. Every groan coming from Ron's mouth sent pulses of pleasure through my erection. My arousal became almost too much to handle when images of a stark naked Ron invaded my mind -Ron's moans became unstable and jerky, which only complicated things. His eyes were closed and he was biting his tongue, concentrating on the approaching orgasm, slowly building up inside his warm, stone-hard cock. His right hand became a blur, rapidly stroking his man-flesh with all the strength his body could muster. Up and down. Up and down. Faster and faster. Pre-come dripping from his slit onto his heavy balls and his curly ginger pubes.  
  
I heard Ron’s breath falter and for a moment I thought that he had died. A multitude of intense groans proved me wrong. The thought of being a spectator of my best mate reaching orgasm rather spectacularly, brought me off faster than I had wanted. A tingling itch started to spread through my privates as I messily came into my fist; seed dripping through the holes between my fingers. I hold my breath when I saw Ron coming up. Merlin, please tell me I didn’t make a sound...  
  
“Harry?”  
  
I remained silent – biting my finger rather hard. When Ron was probably convinced that I was sleeping, he lay back on his bed. A few moments later the sound of the rainforest being sawed down filled the room. I, however, was wide awake – trembling uncontrollably as I felt my heart pounding in my throat…

  
  
~*~

  
  
I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. Not only because of my worries about my godfather or the upcoming war. Ron’s voice controlled my ears. His body was burned into my retina. His loyalty and friendship made my heart reach boiling point. I couldn’t take it anymore. Almost every night, Ron was interlaced in my forbidden fantasies as I stroked myself to completion. Hermione was suspecting something. I felt her gaze burning into my cheek as my eyes were fixated on Ron a bit too long. It had to stop. Immediately. But I didn’t know how…  
  
My weakened resistance unexpectedly shattered when Ron was standing before me at our dormitory. He looked miserable in his hand-me-down dress robe, but his puppy eyes nearly drove me mad.  
  
“I know what you’re thinking,” Ron said, blushing furiously. “I look like the village idiot.”  
  
“Not at all,” I lied, while walking towards him. He looked at me suspiciously, but didn’t stop me when I took his bow tie from him. “Let me do it.”  
  
“You know how to handle a bow tie?” Ron said, sounding surprised. “So there are still things that I don’t know about you. I’m impressed, Harry.”  
  
“When I was living with the Dursleys, I had to dress Dudley,” I said, trying the best I could to fight back a blush. Didn’t work, though. “Life isn’t easy when you have to wrestle with several double chins every day.”  
  
We looked at each other and we both burst into laughter. I just couldn’t express how relieved I was that we were mates again. When I looked back on our fight, I finally understood why he was pissed off. Being overshadowed by your brothers isn’t a picnic, even though it’s unintentional. I longed for an anonymous life, while Ron wanted to be seen. Our friendship gave us both what we wanted. It only took some time and a couple of necessary fights to take off our blindfolds.  
  
“Did you know that you put out your tongue when you’re focussing on something?” Ron said. “Just something I noticed. “  
  
I looked at him and I saw Ron smiling at me. He’s blushing and it’s by far the cutest thing that I’ve ever witnessed. I smelled a faint scent of peppermint when he exhaled. There are moments in life when you just don’t have time to comprehend what’s happening. This was definitely one of them. I felt his hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. Without thinking I laid my hand on his cheek, closing my eyes as I felt his stubble under my touch.  
  
“Harry…”  
  
And then it just happened. Our lips were drawn to each other like magnets. Electricity raced through my veins when we connected. Ron teasingly licked my lips and I opened them as an invitation. Ron pressed himself against me , feeling his growing excitement against my abdomen, arousing me beyond limits. I surrendered completely when Ron’s tongue took the invitation and slipped inside...  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
Ron quickly detached himself from me as we both stared into the flabbergasted eyes of our roommates Dean and Simon.  
  
“N-nothing,” Ron stuttered – almost running out of the dormitory, leaving me confused and hurt.  
  
“Mate, you don’t have to be...”  
  
“Mind your own business!” I snapped at Dean, startling him. I quickly walked to the bathroom, preventing the boys to see my tears…

  
  
~*~

  
  
I was afraid that things would change. That he would be uncomfortable in my presence. The opposite happened. Apparently we both had decided that was had happened in our dormitory was nothing but the outcome of an overflow of hormones and that it wasn’t worth risking our friendship for a night of lust. Ron was still part of my erotic fantasies, but amorousness started to fade. I still loved Ron, and I was pretty sure that he felt the same about me, but the pain started to destroy my happy thoughts. The excruciating pain that was caused by death. Death dulled everything what made a person happy, until there was nothing left but blank eyes staring at you in your worst nightmares. Even a sloppy kiss under the mistletoe meant little. It was destined to fail. Was the absurdity of life the reason why I sought refuge with someone who didn’t ask questions? Someone who gave me what I asked wordlessly. His kisses were uncaring, but his body did things to me that satisfied my bestial needs. Despite that, Ron was the only man in my thoughts as I reached orgasm.  
  
But Ron had moved on. Did he think of me when that airhead fellated him in a deserted classroom? He told me about it, like I wasn’t there. He stated without any compassion. He was the one who could hurt without even knowing...

  
  
~*~

  
  
There’s blood on my hands. I knew it was going to happen someday, but it still struck me. It wasn’t more than carnal lust. Still his words had reached my heart, and had shattered the severely weakened organ into smithereens. All the anger and frustration, which had been heaping up inside my core, was released by an unknown, but perilous spell. There’s blood on my hands. Sung words couldn’t repair the mental damage, and I was consumed by my grieve…

  
  
~*~

  
  
She loved me. Very much. I love her, too. Her lips were soft and her whispered words comforting. Did she know that her brother was in my thoughts when I caressed her flaming red hair? Or that a hazy memory of a hazy kiss kept me going when I made love to her. I love her. But I love him more.

  
  
~*~

  
  
 _“We’re with you. Whatever happens.”_  
  
Tears were flowing down my cheeks as four arms embraced me. The trio bounded by everlasting friendship and the fate that’s waiting for us beyond the borders of safety.

  
  
~*~

  
  
He’s gone. I could still feel his fury inside our tent. I felt his disappointment burning a hole through my heart. He had expectations, which I couldn’t satisfy. I was sent on a mission and they followed me without questioning. I knew just as much as they, but still they were standing by my side. Was their confidence in me misplaced, like the imagination of Ron and me being a couple was wishful thinking?  
  
The days slowly crept by and Hermione refused to talk about what had happened. She had obviously decided to stop talking at all. Was it because she blamed me for Ron’s departure, or because she didn’t want me to see her tears. I heard her sobbing into her pillow, before I fell asleep after hours of fretting. He’s gone. And he would never come back.  
  
I set the table and cut some bread, although neither of us was really hungry. Still she took a seat. I poured her a glass of milk and she thanked me with a curt nod. I was chewing absent-mindedly on my dry sandwich, until all of a sudden Hermione raised her head and looked me straight in the eyes. She put down her glass and opened her mouth.  
  
“Harry, are you gay?”  
  
I choked on my piece of bread and tried the best I could to remove it from my throat. Hermione waved her wand and I could breathe again. She was looking at me without any sign of pity or compassion. It was almost scary to see Hermione like this.  
  
“I thought so,” she said nonchalantly and said no more.

  
  
~*~

  
  
I should panic. The cutting sensation, severely wounding my throat, was almost unbearable. My heart was pounding like a madman. Still I kept my cool. My worries and problems seemed meaningless when I closed my eyes –giving in to the evitable. I felt myself drifting away and realise that I’d never felt so free.  
  
For a moment there was the brightest light that I’d ever seen, including the tunnel and the familiar faces, and the next I was lying on the snow covered ground, gasping for air. I hastily opened my eyes when I realised that I was not alone. Then he came into my sight and for a moment I felt the urge to wrap my fingers around his neck; squeezing the life out of him. A wavering smile appeared on his face and my hatred for him slowly dried up.  
  
How could I ever have hated him, when I saw him kneeling down onto the ground, the remains of his torture lying next to him. Reduced to a boy, obliged to act like a grownup, on the brink of tears. Broken and beaten down. I felt an electric shock rippling through my body as I laid a hand on his shoulder. My feelings for my best friend had always been there. They never left, although I’d tried to prove myself wrong. I felt warmth spreading through my overcooling body when he didn’t shake me off. I tried to pull myself together and to keep my head clear. I knew it was nothing more than a shadow that I loved. He loved Hermione. I should think of her. Of him.  
  
 _“After you left, she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn’t want me to see. There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. With you gone...”_  
  
Did he realise that I cried myself to sleep every single, fucking night?  
  
 _“She’s like a sister. I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It’s always been like that. I thought you knew.”_  
  
He was staring at me and his eyes were radiating relief. The confirmation of his wordless rejection cut through my soul.  
  
He opened his mouth and his words were so sincere, filled with emotion and guilt, that my eyes started to water. I loved him so much. If he couldn’t be my lover, then I would have to settle for a brother that I’d never had. I swallowed my emotions, and answered his honesty with a weak smile. I felt like ages ago, but I noticed happiness blossoming in my body. He had returned and saved my life. There was nothing to forgive.  
  
I felt his heart beating against mine when we simultaneously searched for safety in each other’s arms. I tried to suppress the emotions that were trying to take over my body, but to no avail. He didn’t say anything, but only pressed me tighter to him.  
  
“I love you, Harry.”  
  
I jumped and I looked straight into his eyes. He smiled through his tears and out of a sudden pressed his lips onto mine.  
  
“What are you doing?” I heard myself saying, while I broke away from his grip.  
  
“Seems pretty clear to me,” Ron said smartly. “I was trying to snog you, but you just spoiled the fun and started talking.”  
  
“Ron, I’m very sorry, but I just can’t.”  
  
“How come? I thought you wanted this as much as I do?”  
  
“No, Ron,” I lied. “You belong with Hermione. What has happened between us was nothing more than an exaggerated expression of our friendship.”  
  
“Are you mental?” Ron said uncertainly. “Is this some kind of heroic act to avoid hurting Hermione?”  
  
“You’re like a brother to me, Ron,” I said. “I love you like a brother, but my heart belongs to your sister. I thought you knew.”  
  
“Shall we go?” Ron said shortly as he grabbed the satchel from my shoulder. He’s visibly shocked about my rejection.  
  
“Y-yeah, yeah, sure,” I said, flabbergasted, although I tried to act like a best friend should act in a situation like this. How the fuck is that even possible. I’m by far the biggest wanker on the face of his planet. Why on earth did I have to become sensible just now?

  
  
~*~

  
  
We won. I fought, I died and I rose like a phoenix from the flame. Or in other words : we were lucky, although lucky isn’t maybe the most appropriate word as I thought about all my loved ones who didn’t make it. Voldemort wasn’t beaten by the Elder Wand, but by his blind faith in himself. The bastard dug his own grave and now he can rot until eternity. It doesn’t matter. We’re alive. He’s not.

  
  
~*~

  
  
“For Merlin’s sake, grab some wood, Harry! You’re making me nervous! “  
  
I glared at Mrs. Weasley, who was pacing up and down, just like me. I opened my mouth to give her a piece of my mind, but a soothing hand on my shoulder calmed my nerves.  
  
“Just sit down, son,” Mr. Weasley said friendly. “Shall I fetch you a cup of coffee?”  
  
“No, thank you, Mr. Weasley,” I said, afraid of what the liquid would do to my oversensitive bladder. How long have we been here? Something like that shouldn’t take this long. It just shouldn’t. There must be something wrong.  
  
“Healer Malfoy?” George said loudly, shattering the uncomfortable silence, as a slim, flaxen boy walked by, talking with a nurse. “Do you have something in your pocket to calm the nerves of those two lunatics?”  
  
“No problem, Weasley,” Malfoy said with a little smile. “I think I have an Anti-Stress potion somewhere around here for Mrs. Weasley. I’m afraid Mr. Potter will be needing something more drastic. I could give you an ejection if you like? You will be calm and assertive in no time.”  
  
I felt a flush creeping up my neck and avoided Malfoy’s piercing eyes.“The contractions have started,” Malfoy continued. “I promise you that I won’t be long.”  
  
“T-thank you, Dra…Malfoy,” I said, grinning sheepishly like a ten year old. His eyes were penetrating mine and I tried to ignore the fluttering sensations in my lower body. How could I feel something like this, when...  
  
My thoughts and fantasies were interrupted by a loud bang. Ginny entered the waiting room, closely followed by Dean. She smiled at me, while gasping for breath.  
  
“We came as fast as we could,” she said with her hand in her side. Dean nodded at me. I ignored the bastard. I was happy that Ginny and I were back on speaking terms, but it didn’t mean that I’d to forgive Dean.  
  
“It won’t be long ,” Bill said, hugging his sister.  
  
Suddenly there was a loud cry echoing through the room and tears started to appear in the corners of my eyes. I should leave it ambiguous if it’s because of my emotions or because of Percy nearly crushing my arm.   
  
The door of the delivery-room went open and Malfoy stepped outside, a smile colouring his pale face.  
  
“Congratulations,” he said. “It’s a little girl. Potter, could you please follow me? I think Weasley needs more help than his wife.”  
  
I hastily followed Malfoy and saw Ron sitting on a chair; an ice bag pressed against his head. His face was as white as the sheets of Hermione’s bed, but his broad smile proved that everything was fine. Hermione was lying in the bed; her gaze stuck onto the baby, wrapped in a big, white towel, sleeping in her arms.  
  
“Alright, Weasley?” Malfoy said, who obviously didn’t feel the need to hide the sarcastic undertone. He checked Hermione’s pulse as he observed the small infant in her arms. He waved his wand, muttering some words.  
  
“Everything seems to be fine,” Malfoy said softly as he put his wand back into his pocket. “I’ll give you a moment.”  
  
He winked at me and I needed all the power that was left inside my body to suppress a humiliating blush. I walked towards Hermione and hugged her.  
  
“She’s beautiful,” I said. The little girl had her eyes closed and her face radiated contentment as she laid in the arms of her mother.  
  
“Do you want to hold her?” Hermione asked, taking me off guard.  
  
“B-but I can’t,” I stuttered, panic racing through my body. “I don’t want to drop her.”  
  
“Of course not, you twit,” Hermione said warmly. “Just support her head and neck with your arm.”  
  
I was shaking like a straw when she laid the baby into my arms. At that moment, when I felt the warmth of the infant, I fell in love with her. I had never seen something as beautiful as her.  
  
As I caressed the few hairs on her head, she opened her eyes and stared at me. She had her father’s eyes. She was so small, so vulnerable.  
  
Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and when I looked up, I saw Ron smiling and crying at the same time. It was the expression of pure happiness and I remembered it. He looked the same way when he pressed his lips onto mine several years ago.  
  
“Say hello to your godfather, Rosie,” Ron whispered and I was done. Tears started to form in my eyes and I cried without shame. Tears of happiness, because of the beautiful child lying in my arms. But most of all tears of intense grief, because I finally realized that Ron would never be mine again. He would never kiss me nor would he hold my hand, whispering that he loved me beyond anyone else. When I spoke those words near the lake, I sealed my doom. I would never love someone like Ron again, and I had to hide that love inside my heart for the rest of my life, until it would become unbearable. I opened my mouth and started to scream out loud. Despair flowed through my veins, slowly poisoning me, until there was nothing left but madness…

  
  
~*~

  
  
Harry’s scream was still echoing in his ears when he opened his eyes. He looked around in a frenzied state, but there was nothing but darkness. He heard familiar voices talking to him, but he couldn’t define one of them. It wasn’t until a loud, and particularly painful smack on his cheek brought him back to his senses. He blinked his eyes a couple of times and finally recognised the culprit who made his cheek burn.  
  
“Harry, are you alright?”  
  
He recognised the worried voice of his best female friend. Harry tried to get up, but Hermione's hand gently stopped him.  
  
“Please stay calm, Harry,” Hermione said, checking his pulse. Harry saw Neville and Luna looking at him with worried looks on their faces.  
  
“Please don't worry,” Harry said, trying the best he could to reassure his friends. “It was just...”  
  
“...a vision?”  
  
Harry turned his head and saw Professor Trelawney staggering towards him.  
  
“You've had a vision, dear,” Trelawny said with the grandeur of an expert (accompanied with the stench of stale booze). “I See your aura radiating impressively.”  
  
“The colour of his aura?” Hermione sneered. “Rubbish!”  
  
“Dear,” Trelawny snapped. “Because your Third Eye is limited by your refusal to look Beyond, doesn't give you the right to...”  
  
“Vision,” Harry mumbled, scratching his chin absent-mindedly.  
  
“What?” Trelawny said agitated.  
  
“Vision!” Harry yelled, standing up so fast that he accidently pushed Luna backwards. Thank Merlin, Neville caught her with the reactivity of an experienced Seeker.  
  
“Merlin, I have to do something,” Harry said, more to himself. “I hope that it’s not too late. “  
  
“Harry, you're talking gibberish,” Hermione said, panic visible in her eyes.  
  
“Also a sign of a vis...”  
  
“Harry didn't had a vision!” Hermione said with a shrill voice.  
  
“I have to go,” Harry said and without waiting for a response, he ran towards the exit of Slughorn's office. He nearly bumped into Filch, who held Malfoy in his grasp. Malfoy gave Harry the most scornful glare that he had ever seen, but nearly fainted when Harry pressed his lips onto the blond boy's cheek.  
  
“Thanks for everything,” Harry whispered. He knew it was the shock of Harry's act that prevented Malfoy from hexing his bollocks off. “Although you haven't got the slightest idea of what I'm talking about.”  
  
Harry heard Hermione calling after him, but he wasn't listening. He was mainly focused on his goal. He was running and running, not paying attention to the disapproving hisses of his fellow students. Harry instinctively ducked when Peeves the poltergeist threw an inkpot in his direction. He grabbed his side to soothe the nagging pain as he finally reached his destination.  
  
“Password?” the Fat Lady said rather stingy. She looked disapprovingly at Harry's sweaty clothes as she sipped from her large glass of sherry.  
  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Harry mumbled heatedly, having no idea what the password could be. He turned his head, looking for a fellow student, but the corridor seemed abandoned.  
  
“I'm sorry, but that's not correct,” the Fat Lady said haughty, raising an eyebrow to condemn Harry's foul mouth.  
  
“Harry, Harry!”  
  
Harry turned around and groaned audibly. He knew he had the gift to appear out of thin air, but Harry knew that he needed him as he saw Colin Creevey running towards him, his camera dangling around his neck.  
  
“It's that witch who invented the contraceptive,” Colin squeaked. “Anita Handjaab.”  
  
“You rude brat,” the Fat Lady roared. “How dare you to use such inappropriate language in front of a lady?”  
  
“It's the new password!”  
  
Violet, the Fat Lady's best friend, stormed into her frame, gasping for air.  
  
“The Head Girl just told me,” Violet said, panting.  
  
“And why wasn't I informed first?” the Fat Lady said, her voice rising with each word. “In my humble opinion  _I'm_  the one who's guarding Gryffindor Tower.”  
  
“Don't get your knickers in a twist, woman!” Violet snapped. “What's the problem?”  
  
“That I have to experience this at my age! I used to be in charge of at least thirty employees.”  
  
“Please don’t bore us with your stories. We don’t want to put those poor boys in a permanent coma, don’t we?”  
  
“You ugly battle-axe!”  
  
“Are you talking to me, hag?”  
  
“No, to your mother!”  
  
“Ladies?” Harry asked softly. “Are we allowed to enter?”  
  
“Go on then!” the Fat Lady shrieked when her portrait swung open. “Inside! Chop chop!”  
  
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but he swallowed his words almost immediately. There were more important and urgent matters at hand. Harry looked around and noticed that the common room, apart from a few first years, was deserted. Ron was sitting at a table, surrounded by several huge piles of books. He didn’t look very happy.  
  
“Thanks, Colin,” Harry said quickly as his attention was already on Ron.  
  
“There are several ways of thanking me properly, Harry,” Colin almost purred, winking significantly.  
  
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Harry said shortly, throwing Colin a scary glare. Harry followed Colin storming away to his dormitory, his face crimson with disappointment and embarrassment. When he made sure that Colin was gone, he walked towards the first years and threatened to report them to the Head-Boy for being up way past their bedtime. It was a lie, but the end justified the means. Harry felt his nerves nearly exploding inside his body as he gently patted his best mate’s shoulder.  
  
“Back already?” Ron asked. “Didn’t you have  _fun_?” The resentment was almost dripping from his lips.  
  
“You coming?”  
  
“I know it’s bedtime, but I’m still not finished with Snape’s essay...”  
  
“I wasn’t talking about sleeping.”  
  
“Oh...”  
  
Harry swung his arms around Ron and teasingly nibbled his ear.  
  
“I’m so horny,” Harry panted. He grabbed Ron’s hand and laid it on his crotch.  
  
“Damn...”  
  
“Don’t you want to play?”  
  
“Harry, please. What about Neville? What about Dean and Seamus?”  
  
“Neville is at the party and Dean and Seamus are  _occupied_  in the Room Of Requirement. It almost sounds like you’re not in the mood.”  
  
“Don’t be daft,” Ron said, his ears reddening in the process. “You know I can’t say no.”  
  
“Then what’s the problem? Do you want me to get on my knees and beg?”  
  
“You look way too good on your knees.”  
  
“Bloody wanker,” Harry whispered in Ron’s scarlet ear. “Come upstairs and make me come.”  
  
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Ron said hastily as he tried to conceal the huge bulge between his legs.  
  
“You betcha!”

  
  
~*~

  
  
Harry slowly came back to the land of the living. His heart was bouncing uncontrollably and sweat was pouring down his forehead. He laid his head on Ron’s bare chest and feasted upon his warmth. Harry felt his lover’s breath cooling his wet hair.  
  
“T-that was…intense,” Ron panted, gently stroking Harry’s long manes. “What has gotten into you?”  
  
“I don’t want us to be a secret anymore, Ron,” Harry whispered seriously. “I don’t want to hide. I don’t want to hide you.”  
  
“How come? As I remember it correctly, it was you who…”  
  
“I know, I know. Let’s just say that I’ve had an epiphany.”  
  
“You’re acting a bit weird, Harry. Please don’t tell me that you’re becoming Trelawny’s apprentice.”  
  
“Of course not, you twat,” Harry said, lifting his head so he could face his lover. “I love you, Ron. And I want everyone to know that you’re the one who lightens my world in dark times like these.”  
  
“I love you, too, Harry, but how…”  
  
“Like lovers do,” Harry said softly and he gently kissed Ron on the lips. Ron’s eyes darkened as Harry continued kissing his way along his neck and his sensitive nipples. He teasingly avoided the leftovers of their lovemaking and Ron let out a sigh of relief and pleasure as Harry’s lips enclosed around his lengthening interest.  
  
  
~*~

  
  
“Harry, where are you?” Hermione’s voice was echoing through the common room.  
  
“This is it. This will be our ultimate test,” Harry said softly as he heard their best friend walking up the stairs. His eyes hastily roamed the room, making sure they had cleaned up properly.  
  
“All or nothing,” Ron joked. However, Harry saw the stress glimmering his eyes.  
  
“Let’s do this. Together.”  
  
“Ah, there you are,” Hermione said, slightly offended as she stepped into the boys’ dormitory. She curtly nodded at Ron. She clearly hadn’t forgiven him yet for the Lavender-charade. “You could at least have told me that you weren’t enjoying yourself. Poor Luna. She really was looking forward spending some time with you, Harry. And you left me alone with McLaggen, who couldn’t keep his hands...”  
  
Her gaze strayed off to the two entwined hands, slightly dangling between Harry and Ron. “Oh...”  
  
Harry and Ron were looking insecurely at each other, but bravely turned their gaze towards Hermione, who was shamelessly gaping at them. She sighed heavily and a smile burst through her tensed expression.  
  
“At last!” she said softly as she threw herself into four inviting arms, embracing her with affection and relief. “ At last.”


End file.
